


chase the jaded one

by sushishorts



Category: Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst, M/M, Post-breakup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 04:38:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16549052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sushishorts/pseuds/sushishorts
Summary: Joven hated the breakup because he knew it meant he gave up on them, and if there was anything he never wanted Enteng to feel, it was the idea that he didn’t want the relationship to succeed. And Joven, just because of the stresses of the band and outside forces, such as fandoms and media, gave up because it was easier to let go of something he loved rather than see it crumble before his eyes.band!au





	chase the jaded one

**Author's Note:**

> this is a fic i forced out of my system because i'm stressed and needed to write something else aside from work; title is from unspoken definites by UDD
> 
> i hope aki reads this and calms down! love u aki
> 
> all mistakes are mine

\--

 

The reason was thus: the band was taking much more time in their routine that he’d much rather keep at it rather than keep a half-assed relationship with Vicente, which he understood, at the time. It wasn’t meant in a bad way; Joven was simply the kind of person who focuses one at a time, and at the time, the band was much more important.

Being together just didn’t make sense, he thought, when you’re trying to focus on chords and music sheets and sort-of-choreography they had on stage, and they were doing three shows a night because of how in demand they are, even with the butchered name that equated them to a Pinoy version of the English counterpart -- they will never regret Aguila as a name, at least. Being together and hiding it from everyone was a goddamned chore, Joven hated not being able to be _with_ Vicente the entire time they were secretly dating. Even with the rest of the band knowing and being over-all supportive with it, it wasn’t enough for Joven.

Sometimes, he wondered if that’s where he had it wrong.

The day after they broke up, the band rode all the way to Ilocos to play for a city-planned gig for the youth, and they spent the entire time mushed together behind Julian’s sedan, uncomfortable yet at peace with the entire thing. It felt normal; Vicente hardly had anger with Joven because if there was something Joven was good at, it was being completely rational.

They were flawless during the performance. Vicente smiled at Joven more than once as he sang, and Joven considered that a win.

 

 

 

Except, Joven started missing Vicente.

Enteng, he would remember fondly, was the type who falls in love with all his might. Dense as he might be, Joven’s time with Enteng was all types of sweet and lovely. He remembered how they would spend the night at Joven’s apartment, writing all these songs for the band, and how they knew that their secret love songs were always for each other, so every song was gender normative and always referred to the listener as “you”, just so they can whisper it to each other as they kiss.

He remembered how easy it was to be with Vicente, how their fingers linked together with much ease, and how they often never wanted to let go. Dates were difficult but they loved it all the same; it was harder to sneak around to keep their hands off each other, and they had to be extra careful just in case their fans were sneaking around taking pictures of them. So most of the times, dates ended up getting finished at their respective homes, where they could breathe and be themselves.

“I am never ashamed of you, nor us,” Joven told Vicente when they’re wrapped around each other on the couch. “But for the sake of Goyo and Julian.”

“I know,” Enteng assured him. “This isn’t a problem.”

“Really?”

Enteng nodded, and snuggled him closer. “I’m fine with this.”

That was the only time Joven ever heard Vicente lie.

 

 

 

If he were to sum it all up, the problem was himself.

Joven hated the break up because he knew it meant he gave up on them, and if there was anything he never wanted Enteng to feel, it was the idea that he didn’t want the relationship to succeed. And Joven, just because of the stresses of the band and outside forces, such as fandoms and media, gave up because it was easier to let go of something he loved rather than see it crumble before his eyes.

So now, he didn’t get a say if Vicente decided to flirt with fans, or if he winked for eyecandy like Goyo. Now, he is just the lead guitarist of the band, spewing the melody to which Vicente will croon to. Nothing more, nothing less. The songs were theirs, their own little secret, but now Vicente can share it to everyone else.

It wasn’t just theirs anymore.

 

 

 

On an off day, the band decided to practice, much to Joven’s distaste.

“I have songs to write,” Joven told them with a glib expression, but he decided he should just mostly stare at Julian, who proposed the whole thing.

“Yeah, and I have beers to chug. Get over yourself,” Julian rolled his eyes. “You’ve been so awful with the melody lately, it’s hard to drum to your strumming.” Joven frowned. He hated this conversation.

“Give him a break, Julian, we’ve been playing non-stop for two weeks. Travelling is tiring,” Vicente defended him, as always, and Joven felt so cheated. He didn’t need his help, not really. He could defend himself from Julian without anyone joining in on the conversation.

“Except he’s been distracted and I cannot stand that mistake for that bridge in “Sino Ka” any longer,” Goyo piped in, and Joven swore he could punch a guy right then and there.

But he didn’t. So he bit the inside of his cheek, they practiced, and he was perfect all throughout.

He ignored Vicente’s concerned look when he walked out of the studio.

 

 

 

He wasn’t expecting Vicente to follow him out, of course.

“Can we talk?”

He froze. He wasn’t ready for a conversation, at all.

“Hindi ko alam kung anong dapat nating pag-usapan, Enteng, pero sige, in the interest of saving time and effort, mag-usap tayo.”

He was being an asshole. He was being an asshole. He was being an asshole.

“Okay ka lang?” Enteng was being understanding about it, as usual.

“Ano sa tingin mo?”

He wasn’t expecting the hug. Or the tight squeeze that forced his tears out. He hated this, so he broke away. He took a step forward, wiped away his tears with his arm, and looked back at Enteng with a scatheful glare.

“It’s taking me way too long to accept the fact that we’re not together anymore, Enteng, so don’t you just go hugging me like it’s okay for me to have that kind of skinship, still,” Joven told him, pissed.

“But you broke up with me. I thought you’re okay with this--”

“Akala ko rin, Enteng,” Joven forced out a laugh that could hide the sob that bubbled up his throat. “Akala ko rin.”

Dead silence.

“Anong problema, Joven?”

“Ako,” Joven answered, without skipping a beat. “Ako yung problema.”

 

 

 

Reaching home, he pulled out his writing pad and started scribbling down.

_This was never the deciding factor_   
_This was never my intent_   
_But if this was to shatter_   
_Please know this wasn’t what I meant_

_Not what I meant_   
_when I said goodbye_   
_You were more than just a daydream_   
_You were the dream, come alive_

_Please let me_   
_Love me_   
_Again_   
_And again_

He let himself cry over the pain.

 

\--

Enteng genuinely believed that Joven was his soulmate.

No other person can make his heart swell with just a smile, nor was he thinking of finding someone else, ever. He knew the misconception when it comes to vocalists, the casanova of bands, but he had every reason to ignore anyone’s attempts to flirt with him when he was in a band with his boyfriend.

 _Ex-_ boyfriend. The thought made his heart ache.

 

 

 

With a song in his lips, he was unstoppable. Especially if the song was theirs.

Joven was a writer before he was a guitarist. His songs transcends well with the audience; they had bite, had emotion, had pain. Every syllable was carefully worded out for effective delivery, and it made Vicente’s singing easier when he didn’t have to slur out the words.

It helped too, when the songs were for him. Joven very often wrote songs for him that passed off as a normal love song, but they were his. It was Joven’s gifts to him, singing them to him first before he revealed it for the world.

He often sealed every song with a breathless kiss, and a promise for more. (He loved the promise more than the songs.)

 

 

 

One gig, he got a little too drunk after their set and it took a toll on him. He started flirting with numerous people just to numb the part that ached for Joven. It was a nightmare, not to mention ballsy. Joven was in the vicinity too, talking mostly to Goyo, when Julian approached him with a glass of water.

“Sober the fuck up,” Julian told him. “Joven’s here, you fucking idiot.”

“Let him watch! In fact, why don’t I flirt with him too? We’re both single, aren’t we--”

“Enteng, you do not want to go down this route with this conversation with me.”

The anger in Julian’s eyes was enough to sober him up a bit. He gulped.

“Do not make this breakup harder for the both of you just because you think you’re the only one hurting,” Julian told him, giving him the glass of water. “Sober the fuck up and let’s go home. Joven’s seen enough.”

True enough, Joven was staring. When Enteng tried to mouth apologies, Joven looked the other way.

 

 

 

That night, he changed into one of Joven’s old shirts that he’s still in possession of. He grabbed his phone from his nightstand before texting Joven good night, hoping that it was enough to have him talk to him again, at least.

To his relief, Joven texted a good night back, and Vicente fell asleep with a smile on his face.

 

 

 

And for a while, everything was peaceful. Joven was talking to him in passing, albeit not as engaging as before, but at least he was not ignoring Vicente altogether.

Vicente was fine with the set-up. He was fine with the unrequited longing glances, and singing songs without putting much feeling into it, or at least as much as before. He was okay with sharing smiles with Joven when they perform, polite ones that keep their boundaries present, until the day he stumbled upon Joven’s notepad.

He ran his fingers through the indented pages; Joven always wrote too hard when he was serious. _Please let me,_ it read, _love me, again and again._

Feelings that he was sure he suppressed long enough found itself roaring out, and with a shaky hand, he speed-dialed Joven’s number.

 

\--

 

“Do you still love me?”

The question rang heavy in the air and Joven was forced to answer in the only way he knew how: “What?”

Still, Vicente persisted. “Do you still love me?”

“Enteng, lasing ka ba?”

“Sasagutin mo yung tanong ko or magmamakaawa akong sagutin mo?”

“First of all,” Joven sighed. “Have the balls to talk to me about this in person, sira. It’s late. Let me sleep.”

“Joven--”

“Good night, Enteng.”

Dropping the call, Joven hid behind his hands and blushed as red as he could go, wondering how Vicente found out in the first place. Realizing that he might have left his stuff lying around haphazardly, he rummaged through his things for his notepad, only to find out that it was missing. With a defeated smile, he texted Vicente: “Did you like the song?”

 

\--


End file.
